Temperance
by flanazapam
Summary: A short little story depicting Frollo's struggle over meeting Esmeralda at the Festival of Fools. This would take place in the same fireplace where he sang "Hellfire". Enjoy!


**Temperance **

Raven-dark night engulfed the whole of Paris as the city slept. Everything was silent and serene, deeming it difficult to believe that a poor gypsy girl had been sentenced to hang for the crimes of witchcraft and attempted murder mere hours ago. The only building whose windows still glowed was a majestic mansion at the heart of Paris. This mansion belonged to Judge Claude Frollo, a man of mature years and high standing in Parisian society.

Claude Frollo was sleepless that night, pensively gazing upon his fireplace with coal-black, penetrating eyes. In his pale and bony hands he held a purple silk scarf which belonged to the gypsy girl, La Esmeralda. He drew his gaze away from the fire in order to look upon the little scarf with heart-wrenching longing.

Claude's mind thought of La Esmeralda's raven locks, her sun-kissed skin and her jingling golden bangles. Her emerald eyes conjured in him sensations he had never before felt. Her dances moved his soul in so potent a manner that not even God could hope to compare. Claude's eyes twinkled as they followed her graceful motions.

He knew not how to describe the fire which blazed within his being. All he knew was that he longed to hold her in his arms for the remainder of his mortal life. He wished beyond all hope to caress her darkened skin and to dispel all sorrow from her soul. He asked only for her love.

"Why do I, even at this hour of the night, still think of her so fervently?" Claude Frollo asked. "Why do I feel so passionately for this poor gypsy girl?"

Frollo's mind pondered on the subject for a while. Could it be possible that he, Judge Claude Frollo, was truly taken by her sinful vivacity? Or was it a curse, placed upon him by the gypsy girl who spun around his every thought?

He was, he concluded, still the judge of Paris, a man unmoved by passions which swept the vermin crowds off their very feet. It was the gypsy's curse which quelled his true righteousness by tormenting him with thoughts of temptation and sin. He would not, could not, permit this evil witch to reign supreme over his chaste and worthy being.

Yet he shuddered at the very thought of having her near him with a yearning which would have proved itself unbearable to any other soul on Earth. His heart implored for her to feel for him as he felt for her.

"Gypsies are incapable of love!" Frollo cried out, angrily grasping his chest. "Their kind is of the Devil. They live only to seduce and mercilessly anguish the souls of pious men!"

Regardless of his fury and vehement resistance, images of Esmeralda filled his thoughts. Claude Frollo's heart beat to the very rhythm of Esmeralda's tambourine, as though the girl herself were beating it as such. A cold sweat ran down his forehead as he felt the sting of his desire and drowned in the depth of his madness.

"I must resist this torment!" Frollo exclaimed, tearing at the scarf. "A judge does not give in to illicit passion! Let me perish before I surrender to the charms of this perverse sorceress!"

He attempted to rid himself of the unfortunate scarf by throwing it towards the fireplace. His fingers, however, seemed to have magnetic hold over the object, for it would not depart despite his every throw.

"The enchantress seeks to ensnare me into her gypsy trap by using this scarf so she may take my wretched spirit to the abyss!" Frollo concluded in his lunacy. "I knew it was so!"

Claude thought once more of Esmeralda and the peculiar yet pleasant aroma of her hair. He felt his spirit soar as he dreamt of her dance, as he imagined her delicate caress upon his cheek. He envisioned her full, rose-coloured lips gently pressing against his pale, trembling ones. For this, he thought, he'd gladly give his soul away to Hell.

"Phantasy and nothing more!" Frollo howled, whether in wrath or in despair, it was difficult to tell. "I alone stand between the city and the gates of Hell, for the gypsies seek to contaminate us all with sin!" He declared, shaking with rage whilst stomping the now tattered silken scarf. "I shall untangle my soul from this curse and punish them for their wickedness!"

Frollo threw the mutilated scarf into the hungry fire and watched with the same penetrating gaze as the flames devoured it. He let out a hollow, soul-less laugh.

"La Esmeralda, you shall regret the hour at which you sent this curse. I am no longer Claude the romanticist. I am called, with honour, Judge Frollo!" Judge Claude Frollo declared with passion. "Tomorrow, your death shall purge my soul of every sinful thought your life has cast upon it! Afterwards, I shall dispose of the other gypsies, whither by rope or by fire! I care not if all Paris burns for this, so long as your wicked kin is vanquished forevermore! You will hang, La Esmeralda, for righteous judges have no need for a gypsy's wicked love!"


End file.
